The Gift of a Name
by BlackRoseDragonCK
Summary: One-shot, post-MGS2. She was a terrified prisoner trapped in the Patriots' prison. Every sound, every movement within her silent, still, white-walled chamber startled her. Raiden never suspected that he would gain her seemingly unattainable trust with so simple a gift. Raiden/Sunny friendship, no pairing.


**I DO NOT OWN METAL GEAR**

**Hi ;)! I've been wanting to do a Raiden and Sunny fic forever and finally got some inspiration for one. This story is my take on Raiden rescuing Sunny from the Patriots (of course, he's not a cyborg yet). There are spoilers regarding Boris's character but other than that it all takes place in the past :). Oh, and as for the cover, I intentionally drew Raiden's suit a bit differently so he wouldn't be wearing the same things as he was in MGS2. Anyway, please enjoy! **

**X**

The chamber was, in every way, a cell. White metal walls…white metal floors…nothing but snow-colored steel surrounded him. The effect was suffocating. It mattered not that it was quite large as far as rooms went or that there was a door blended into the wall, most likely utilized by the "wardens" of this place. No iota of freedom existed here. It was one open, rigid, glacial, pale prison.

Raiden, the operative sent in on the retrieval mission, took a few cautious steps forward. His hand hovered over the sheathed katana at his waist, ready to seize it at a moment's notice. He was dressed in a suit similar to the Skull Suit he had donned at Big Shell. This one was solid black with protective metallic plating on the shoulders and kneecaps. The color looked even darker against his pale skin, insipid blue eyes, and long white-blonde hair.

The suit was specially designed for sneaking missions. Ironically, Raiden had never felt more conspicuous. This horridly pallid room…it made him feel as though he were a dark smudge on its pristine surface. He half suspected that it had been purposefully designed this way to compromise the focus of any intruders. A mirthless smirk curled Raiden's lips. He wouldn't put it past the Patriots to concoct such a scheme.

In addition to being unnerving, the chamber was also staggeringly high-tech. Numerous traps, protective measures, and fail safes had riddled its lone door. It had taken the very best hackers from the Paradise Lost Army to break inside.

But Raiden WAS inside now and he had a job to do. The mission…was to rescue Olga Gurlukovich's child.

Very little was known about him…or her, since even gender was an unknown factor. The only solid intel regarding the target was that he or she was very young. He/she was also having God-knew-what sort of advanced education program fed to his/her brain by the Patriots.

The very thought made Raiden's stomach twist. He might not have been connected to the child via nanomachines anymore, but he still felt obligated to it, for Olga's sake. She had died defending him so that he could complete this task.

Fingers clutching the hilt of the blade Olga had given him, Raiden ventured deeper into the room. His footsteps were like gunshots in the palpable silence. Tensing, the operative cast his eyes about the room. Against one wall rested a wall of massive computer monitors. A desk littered with keyboards sat before the screens, accompanied by an office chair. Upon further examination, Raiden saw that a child's booster seat was strapped to the chair. That more than anything else assured him that he was in the right place.

Several of the computers were beeping and flashing red with alert signals. That meant that Olga's child was aware of the invasion. Mostly likely, he/she would not be too thrilled about it. Any child, Patriot-brainwashed or not, would have been terrified by now.

The blonde-haired man scanned the room once more. His eyes froze on another furniture-inhabited area. Resting against a wall near the grove of computers was a small cot. It was white like the rest of the room with a few pillows on top of it. Raiden frowned, his eyes narrowing. Something about one of those pillows seemed…odd.

He crept closer, placing each foot down slowly so as not to cause any unnecessary racket. As he drew nearer…he realized what was off about the pillow. It was trembling. In fact, it wasn't a cushion at all. It was part of the sheet…and there was something underneath it.

Halting directly before the bed, Raiden studied the mass. Small in size, the form seemed to be curled in a ball. A definite tremor wracked its tiny form. There were a number of things it could be. A Tripod placed there to distract him or some other nasty trap designed for intruders were only two possibilities.

Hesitantly, Raiden reached out. He grasped the sheet. The shape beneath it froze. He took a deep breath, pulled the blanket away…and revealed the figure cowering beneath. He was met by neither a UG nor a nasty trap. Instead…a little girl, only four or five years old, sat there, gazing up at him with terrified eyes.

Stunned, Raiden nearly grabbed for his pistol. Although he had been sent to this place in search of a person, it still seemed somehow strange to find a living being in this bleak room.

The girl was huddled against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. She had pale blonde hair that hadn't quite grown to girlish lengths yet. Her large eyes were a chocolate color. They stared at him with unblinking fear. Her skin was pale, as if she had never seen daylight. In fact, the only real splotch of color on her appeared in her clothing. Light yellow scrub-like articles covered her petite form. They made her look like both a prisoner and a test subject…both of whom she truly was.

Scanning the child's thin, quivering form, the operative did not even have to ask a cautionary "who are you?". Short fair hair…pale skin…pretty face…it was clear that she was the daughter of Olga Gurlukovich. She was his target.

Slowly, Raiden moved his hand away from his sword hilt. In spite of his careful deliberation, the girl still jerked, hiding her face against her knees. He held up his hands to show that he was holding no weapons.

"It's okay," he said in the most soothing voice he could manage. "I won't hurt you."

She turned her head slightly to peek at him. Raiden tried to smile…but it probably came out as more of a grimace. In retrospect, he probably had not been the best choice for this mission. A child counselor he certainly was not. The past few months battling PTSD had also hardened him…made him a lot less mild than he had been at Big Shell.

All of these things were true and yet…he was the ONLY person who could do this job. He was the one who had vowed that he would save Olga's child. He planned on keeping that vow.

Raiden got down on his haunches so that he was looking up at the little girl. She had lifted her head but was still regarding her visitor with fear.

"It's okay," he repeated. "I'm here to rescue you. The, uh… bad guys are keeping you locked in this room. I'm going to get you out."

He tried to make his reduce his wording to a four-year-old level. Only after he spoke did he remember that she was supposedly a genius and probably did not need things to be simplified.

The girl stared at him, her arms further tightening around her legs. Raiden wasn't sure if she understood or not, especially since he had no idea what state her brain was in after the experimentation.

Just then, the operative heard the familiar ring of his Codec. He pressed a hand to his ear, listening. It was the Russian-accented voice of Boris, the leader of another group that was assisting the PLA in their operation.

"Raiden!" he called over a thunderous background commotion. "You must hurry! We cannot hold our much longer!"

"Right…" the blonde grunted and ended the call.

Turning back to the child, he decided that the "break it to her slowly" approach was not working. "Look…The people in this nearly impregnable building have been holding you hostage in this cell for years. I promised Olga Gurlukovich that I would rescue you."

He half expected her to hide under the bed. To his astonishment…the girl finally blinked. She studied his face with those large brown eyes and her lips parted slightly.

"O-O-Olga…?" she squeaked out. Her voice was soft and quavering, probably from lack of use.

This time, it was Raiden's turn to gawk. A computer genius she might have been, but she seemed barely able to speak. The Patriots had trained her brain to be accustomed to absorbing copious amounts of information….but they had not thoroughly taught her human interaction. It seemed a foreign practice to her.

An acidic hatred for the Patriots burned within Raiden's core. How could they do this to anyone, let alone a child? The only thing that stopped him from cursing them to the darkest pits of hell right then and there was the girl's stuttering voice.

"O-Olga…G-Gurlukov-vich…?" she inquired.

The operative was distant in his response. "Uh, yeah…She…she was your mother. I'm sorry to tell you that she's not here anymore…"

He then winced. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Raiden commenced mentally berating himself. He wished he could snatch the words out of the air and shove them back into his head. How could he have been so careless as to say something that would probably cause this little one even more pain?

Fortunately, she seemed to be focusing more on the first part of his statement than the second part. She now had her legs stretched before her, resting her weight back on her palms. Her head was tilted to one side and her hair looked ashen in the harsh lighting.

"O-Olga…Gur-Gurlukovich…" the girl murmured again. Apparently, that name had been the most interesting part of her rescuer's statement.

Raiden ran a hand through his pale hair. It had been awhile since he had felt this awkward. Nothing in this mission was what he had expected. Not this room…not the Patriots' experimentation…and certainly not her.

As she pondered the new information, the child's hand went to rub unconsciously at her foot. Raiden's eyes followed the movement. He frowned at what he saw. Partially concealed beneath her yellow pants leg was a hard device encircling her ankle. It looked rather like the bands individuals under house arrest were required to wear. Most likely, it was some sort of extra tracking apparatus just in case her internal nanomachines failed for whatever reason. Upon further inspection, Raiden saw that it had created a painful-looking bruise around her tender leg.

Anger boiled within the man's chest. The Patriots were tracking her as if she were some valuable package. They didn't care what their methods did to her. Well…he would have to leave the nanomachines to one of the technological experts…but he could do something about that infernal ankle band.

Raiden reached out and grasped the rim of the device. The girl flinched at his sudden proximity, fixing him with those startled eyes.

"Is this bothering you?" he asked, tapping the band with his fingertip.

She shifted back on the bed. Her gaze averted his…but he could tell by the slight wince she gave when the band pressed against her bruise that it was hurting her.

"All right…" Raiden murmured.

He reached down and unsheathed his sword. The young one gave a startled cry, squirming to get away from him. Releasing her ankle, Raiden placed a hand on her trembling shoulder to still her.

"It's okay!" he said as comfortingly as possible. Her eyes were practically wild with fear and he gave a small smile to reassure her. "I promise I won't hurt you. I'm just going to cut through part of this device so that I can break it off of your leg."

She stopped struggling, though her stress still remained. Her muscles were so tense that they felt like wire beneath Raiden's palm. Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, the operative lifted his sword so that the hilt was facing toward her. He grasped the edge of the band and used the portion of the blade closest to the hilt to saw away at it. His charge began shaking again. She looked away…but she did not fight him.

As a razor-sharp HF blade, the katana cut through the plastic-like material with considerable ease. Once he was about halfway through it, Raiden was able to snap the device off. Unceremoniously, he tossed the thing across the room, letting it clatter and die on the floor.

The girl's head whipped back around at the noise. Her eyebrows were raised, her face a mask of shock. Gingerly, Raiden rubbed his gloved fingers over the bruise. His eyes met hers and he smiled lightly.

"That feels better, doesn't it?"

The girl reached down to feel around her ankle. She seemed stunned by the absence of what had obviously been there for quite some time. Her lips twitched slightly…and Raiden could swear that she almost smiled.

Sheathing his katana, the operative stood up to his full height. He glanced at the door, then back at the four-year-old. She no longer seemed petrified. Now, she was engrossed in analyzing her new acquaintance from head to toe, as if he were some fascinating new species. To her…he probably was. He didn't imagine that the scientists here were particularly "child friendly". He wasn't exactly experienced with children himself…but he was probably a great improvement over the Patriots and their lackeys.

Raiden took a deep breath. There wasn't much more he could do…and they were running out of time. He had to drop the bombshell of a question.

"It must be pretty lonely here," he began slowly, not wanting to seem too pushy. "So…will you let me take you out of this place?"

The girl stared at him. Her meditative frown deepened. She looked away from him, wringing her fingers anxiously. Raiden's shoulders slumped. It wasn't looking good. She clearly wasn't about to leap at the chance to escape. He really didn't want to have to stick her with a hypo to render her unconscious and drag her away against her will. Prisoner or not, she still deserved the privilege of free will. Furthermore…what reason did she have to trust a complete and total stranger?

Stranger…that was it. Raiden actually slapped himself in the forehead, eliciting a surprised gasp from the young female. He might have been highly skilled in the art of combat and stealth… but his talents were lacking when it came to social interaction. He had been conversing with her all this time…and not once had he given her some form of identification. As superficial as it seemed, people felt better when they had a name to attach to the new individual with him they were communicating.

"Forgive me," the fair-haired warrior lamented, sitting down on the edge of the bed and smiling sheepishly. "I'm not very good at introductions. I just realized…I forgot to introduce myself. My name is R…." he balked. What name should he give for himself? He wasn't particularly fond of his real name after the surge of Ripper memories…but "Raiden" was so peculiar. It would most likely spark a stiff wariness…a complication he definitely did not need.

Letting out a small breath, he forced himself to directly meet her gaze. "My name is Jack."

She tilted her head slightly. "J-Jack…" she reiterated, tasting the foreign word with deep curiosity.

Raiden nodded. He felt his discomfort at the name gradually melt away. When this child uttered it… "Jack" somehow didn't seem so iniquitous to him. He waited for several seconds for her to reciprocate the introduction. When this did not occur, Raiden encouraged her.

"So…what is YOUR name?"

Her eyes flicked away. She began nervously wringing her fingers again. Raiden frowned, perplexed. "It's okay," he prompted. "You can tell me."

The child still did not reply. She hung her head low…and Raiden could swear that he saw her face grow flushed. She was flustered. But…why? Knowing her name made no difference regarding the secrecy of her existence now that he had found her. This entire conversation was really only for sentimentality's sake.

Then it dawned on him. The operative wanted to smack himself again. This girl…had never been given a name. Why would she have one? Olga hadn't had the chance to name her baby. The Patriots were planning on keeping her shut away from the world for the rest of her life and she was the only one of her kind in their prison. Why would anyone have bothered to name her?

Raiden felt a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. This poor child…she had been deprived of even the most basic rights of humanity. The man cleared his throat uncomfortably, racking his brain for a way to dispel the awkwardness that had descended upon them. After a few moments, he was hit with an idea. It was risky…but it would be better than glossing over the issue as if it did not exist.

"If you don't have a name…" Raiden started, forcing a smile through his trepidation. "…then I guess I'll just have to give you one myself."

The girl's head snapped upright. She fixed him with a bewildered look. Raiden's smile grew a little and his apprehensiveness shrank. There was something in those somber eyes…a slight glimmer that resembled hope.

Raiden scratched his head. "What to name you…Your family was Russian so maybe I should choose something from that culture."

If only he were familiar with female names of that variety. He chewed his lip, debating how to handle the dilemma. Unable to determine a more suitable course of action, he resorted to using the Codec to contact someone who might be able to assist him.

The operative pressed a hand to his ear as contact was established. "Boris? It's Raiden."

"Do you have the girl?" said Russian questioned. There was still noise in the background, though it was not as raucous as it had been before.

"Uh…" Raiden cast a sidelong glance at the being in question. She was regarding him with puzzlement. "…almost. Listen, I just have a quick question. Do you know any good Russian girl names?"

There was a lengthy silence in which Raiden could practically feel his companion's befuddlement radiating through the Codec. "…What?" was all Boris could get out. "How on earth is this…?"

Raiden kneaded his forehead. "Long story. Please just answer the question."

Boris was apparently so taken aback that he could not even get angry at the seemingly irrelevant inquiry. He made several meditative noises before answering.

"I…erm…well, there is 'Anastasiya'."

"Mmm…" the blonde shook his head, recalling how difficult it had been for the child to pronounce "Olga". "It's nice but kind of a mouthful."

"Ogrofenka?" the Russian offered.

At first, Raiden could only blink at that. He threw his hand up in exasperation, saying, "I can't even come remotely CLOSE to pronouncing that one, Boris."

Boris started to respond but was cut off by a recrudescence of thundering noise at his end. He cursed, snapped at Raiden to hurry, and abruptly ended the call.

The man took a moment to absorb the fact that he had just been hung up on. He sighed. "Well, THAT was helpful." Giving the girl a hapless smile, he added, "Well, I guess we won't be giving you a Russian name. Just as well, I guess. I can't even spell 'Gurlukovich' so I don't know how I expected to handle 'Ogrofenka'."

Whether it was his words, his hopeless expression, or something else he hadn't noticed, Raiden was never sure…but something brought forth a laugh from the stony-faced little girl. In that instant, her pale countenance lit up and her dark eyes sparkled. Combined with the yellow hue of her clothing, the smile made her seem like a burst of sunlight. Sun…

That was it.

"Sunny…" he said softly.

She shot him a surprised look. Involuntarily, the warrior's lips curled into a smile. He scanned her from head to toe, saying, "Sunny Gurlukovich. That's your name."

The child glanced off to the side, considering his words. "S-Sunny…" she murmured reflectively.

Raiden nodded and took her tiny hand in his. "From what I just saw of you, I'd say it's a perfect name." his blue eyes locked with her chocolate ones. This was his final chance to bring her out of this place of her own free will. "Look…I know you don't have a lot of reason to smile right now…but if you let me get you out of here, I promise I'll take you somewhere where you'll be happy. You'll be able to smile a lot more…and you'll grow into your name." The speech made him feel rather silly…but it was the only way he could think of to express his thinking.

She kept her gaze on his. He felt as if she were searching his soul for any signs of deceit like a security program seeking viruses on a computer. He squeezed her hand.

"So…what do you say?"

Silence ensued for what felt like an eternity. Raiden felt his heart thudding. She was still and unresponsive for a long time. Then…slowly…surely…Sunny held out her arms to him.

"I-I want to l-l-leave…"

Her voice was barely audible. All the same, Raiden heard her…and was scarcely able to contain a sigh of relief. Finally, he had gained her trust. He wasn't about to do anything that might compromise it. A calm "okay" was all he uttered.

Raiden then lifted Sunny into his arms. He held her on his hip with one arm as he had seen countless other people do with children. Her small fingers clutched at his suit. She stared into his face with vulnerable eyes, her form trembling slightly.

"J…J-Jack…?"

The operative smiled encouragingly. "It'll be okay, Sunny."

The sound of her name seemed to comfort her. Sunny's body relaxed and she turned her face toward the gaping door. She appeared ready.

Seeing this, Raiden got in touch with his teammate. "I've got her, Boris," he reported.

The Russian sounded relieved. "Good work, tovarich. Come, hurry to the rendezvous point."

"Roger that."

Ending the call, Raiden quickened his pace out of the white-walled room and into the outer corridor. All was quiet for now…but he had a feeling that would soon change.

He placed his hand on Sunny's back to support and comfort her. The girl had rested her head against his shoulder. Eyes half-lidded, she fiddled with one of the straps on her rescuer's suit while her lips continuously practiced their brand new words.

"S-Sunny…G-Gurlukov-vich…Sunny…G-Gurlukovich…"

As he listened to her quiet murmurings, Raiden found himself reflecting on childhood history lessons. He recalled learning about missionaries befriending hostile tribes by delivering presents to them. It took patience, but, many times, the missionaries were successful.

Rounding a corner, the soldier could make out the distant cacophony of combat sounds. His charge's arms wound tightly around his neck and he reflexively tightened his grip on her. While Sunny was not a hostile native…she was certainly timorous. Clearly, she was not used to people who had her health and happiness in mind. Earning her confidence had seemed an impossible feat at first.

But Raiden had done it. Just like numerous missionaries, he had won the child's trust with a gift…..the simple gift of a name.

**X**

**I started thinking about how Olga was constantly saying "my child" rather than giving a name, thought that "Sunny" was way to cute a name for the Patriot AIs to come up with, and thus this story was born :). ****Oh, and I am in no way slamming the names "Anistasiya" or "Ogrofenka". I just chose the first two long Russian names I could find XD.** Anyways, I hope you liked and please review! Please no flames. 

**I DO NOT OWN METAL GEAR**


End file.
